


at the top of my list

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fathers Trip 2017, Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Real Events, Love Confessions, M/M, Poor Mitchy, Shitty Coaching, Soft!Auston, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: Inspired by real life events from January 2017 when Babs did something entirely uncool to Mitch.Thank you to azuresky18 for helping me research some of what transpired between Babs and Mitch and a few of the Leaf players. And because it was so shitty, Mitch deserves some Auston love. So that’s what I gave him.
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	at the top of my list

Mitch had a pretty good idea why Babs had asked him to make the list. It was obvious to everyone—the fans, the GM, the team, even Mitch himself—that he wasn’t living up to his fullest potential. That’s all Babs wanted him to acknowledge, right?

But the timing was odd—smack dab in the middle of the annual fathers trip. The Leafs coach told Mitch to hang back after practice. The rookie had hesitated, worrying that he’d be late for dinner with Auston and their dads, but Babs said it wouldn’t take long. 

Mitch knew this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat, which was a shame because he had been otherwise enthused and living it up with his father and bonding with his teammates and their dads. Sure, they’d lost to the Capitals earlier in the week, but things were looking good for their game against the Devils.

Babs got right to the point. _Marner, I want you to rank each of your teammates from most hardest working to least._ His tone was cold and his demeanor reeked of apathy—a departure from his usual berating of Mitch for being a goofball, a slackass, a fucking joke (that one had hurt the most). He’d given no further explanation, told Mitch to have a nice evening with his father and to bring him the list when they were back in Toronto. That was it.

Mitch found his way out of the practice rink, not expecting to find Auston waiting for him outside. He’d texted his teammate to go ahead without him and that he’d meet everyone over at the restaurant. But leave it to his fellow rookie to want to be there for him in case he needed to pick up the pieces after another dressing down from Babs. Today hadn’t been too bad though—just weird—so Mitch tried to muster a smile for his best friend, and let him know that everything was okay. 

In addition to being his best friend, Auston was probably his favorite person in the entire world, the sole living being who could make him feel like a million dollars with just the slightest of grins. He looked adorable right now, all bundled up with a beanie pulled down over his ears and his wool scarf snaked around his neck—as if New York was any colder than back home.

“Hey, Aus. Thanks for waiting for me.”

“No problem. I know Babs can be an ass, especially on the road. I texted my dad that we’re running behind, but he’s a smooth talker. They won’t give away our reservation.”

Mitch nodded gratefully. He really wanted to get out of this funk, continue enjoying this amazing trip, and not make the evening unpleasant for anyone else. “I’ll get us an Uber.”

“Or I could hail us a cab. We _are_ in New York City,” suggested Auston, stepping closer to the curb and doing a practice round. He quickly put his arm down and began laughing uncontrollably.

“What?” Mitch walked over to him, his face breaking into a genuine smile, which felt good. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m doing it wrong. Isn’t this the Nazi salute?” Auston asked, holding his arm up again, his fingers pointing straight into the air.

Mitch giggled. “The hell if I know, but yeah, that doesn’t look right. Let me try.”

Between the two of them looking like idiots with their arms in the air, a cab eventually stopped to pick them up.

On the ride over to the restaurant, Auston launched into a lengthy description of a theme park he and his younger sister were building together in Minecraft. It was a nice gesture, Auston doing most of the talking for once and not pressing Mitch for details about his conversation with their coach. Mitch was beginning to relax now, pushing the odd request from Babs into the back of his mind.

“You should hang out with me and my sisters back home. We’re dorks, but in a good way.” Auston was basically reiterating an invitation he’d extended multiple times for Mitch to come back with him to Arizona over the summer. Mitch went ahead and accepted.

They ended up being only a few minutes late to the restaurant, and their dads, Paul and Brian, had waited on them to be seated, both of them completely oblivious to why Mitch and Auston were late in the first place. 

The restaurant was warm and inviting and touted some of the best Italian cuisine in the city. Over breadsticks and pasta, the four men chatted about practice and filming from earlier in the day. Each father made a point of telling one embarrassing story from each of their son’s childhood, and both commented on the amazing chemistry the team seemed to be having, excited about cheering on the team against the Devils. 

After coffee and dessert, Paul snuck off to take care of the bill while Brian excused himself to the restroom, which gave the young men a quiet moment alone. Well, quiet amidst the noise all around them in the restaurant, which was actually a welcome change—being able to blend into their surroundings. Auston looked like he was on the verge of saying something meaningful. 

Mitch was now familiar with almost every single one of his friend’s expressions, and this particular one consisted of Auston literally gulping back words as he cleared his throat. Whatever was actually on his mind, he kept to himself and instead, reminded Mitch that they had a red eye to catch the next day. “Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some shut eye. My dad wants to do some sightseeing, but I figure we can go out in the morning. Join us if you want.”

“Not sure. We’ll see.” Mitch’s sulkiness from earlier had returned, and Auston must have sensed it right away, extending one of his large hands across the table and placing it atop Mitch’s shoulder. He was doing that thing again, holding back the words he wanted to say, probably because he knew that very little could make Mitch’s situation with Babs—whatever it was—any better. 

But Auston didn’t have to _say_ anything. His presence was enough. The softness in his expression, which Auston rarely revealed to anyone, was enough. His strong hand, patting Mitch’s shoulder soothingly, was enough. If he could have, Mitch would have wrapped himself up in Auston, his arms of steel, his sturdy frame a literal safe haven, and stayed that way for hours. It was like the guy had magical healing powers, but that kind of closeness, intimacy would be too new for them and maybe too much for Auston.

“Thanks, Aus,” Mitch managed before nodding towards their approaching fathers. Auston pulled his arm back to his side, and Mitch felt the immediate loss of the steady hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, fellas. Did we interrupt a pep talk of some sort?” Auston’s father asked.

Mitch was quiet, so Auston answered for him. “I think we’re both pretty wiped, thinking about tomorrow’s game, then the flight, plus another game day after tomorrow.”

“Ah,” said Brian. “Well, probably time to head back to the hotel. This has been an amazing week. Looking forward to doing this every year.”

Mitch’s dad piped up, agreeing whole heartedly and informing everyone that he had taken care of the bill. Brian responded with the usual “you shouldn’t have” bit, offering to get their next meal. The two of them had been doing this back and forth since the beginning of the week. Auston and Mitch got up from the table and walked ahead of them, picking up their pace and racing to see who could hail a cab first. It ended up being a tie as two cabbies pulled over. The two father-son duos parted ways.

As soon as they got back to the hotel and his father had settled in for the night, Mitch started the list for Babs. Better to get it out of the way. The first name he wrote down was a no-brainer. Auston Matthews, the hardest working player on the team. And at the very bottom, _Mitch Marner._

It wasn’t in him to be resentful or jealous; Mitch could only admire his fellow rookie’s drive and commitment. The thing that really hurt about doing the list was the realization that he’d let his teammates down.

He didn’t give the rest of the list much thought, based the lower rankings on who had been more distracted lately in practices, maybe less productive in a few recent games. What did it matter since he already grasped the point his coach was trying to make? Mitch needed to step up his game.

Now finished with his assignment, he folded the list into four squares, tucking it in his suitcase and figuring he would discreetly hand it over to Babs once they were back in their own arena. Mitch got ready for bed, checking his phone after setting his alarm and seeing a text from Auston, clicking on the message to reveal a selfie his hunky teammate had taken in his bathroom. He was shirtless, probably about to go to bed, toothbrush in hand, along with a decent amount of foam in the corner of his mouth from the toothpaste. It was adorable, and he’d captioned it with the following: _Go to bed, Mitchy. After all, tomorrow is another day._

Mitch chuckled at that last part, remembering how, during a recent visit, Ema Matthews had insisted that the three of them watch her favorite movie, _Gone with the Wind_. She was shocked that Mitch had never seen it, and Auston audibly groaned like a brat since this would be about his twentieth viewing. 

Mitch was game though, mesmerized during all four hours of the classic film, asking Ema questions about the South and slavery and the Civil War, and Auston would frequently interject because he claimed that his mom wasn’t exactly an expert on Southern culture or the history of the United States. _She grew up in Mexico, for God’s sake,_ he’d gruffed.

And then Ema and Mitch had both chirped back that Auston wasn’t any more knowledgeable about the culture nor the time period, being raised in Arizona and certainly not around in the 1800’s. Ema mentioned his “D” in American history, and Auston quieted down.

Mitch had really enjoyed bonding with Ema, and just to annoy the piss out of Auston, he would occasionally quote lines from the movie, batting his eyelashes and impersonating Scarlett O’Hara’s southern drawl. Her line about _tomorrow being another day_ was usually in the rotation, because dammit, she’d made a good point. 

And now Auston was making a much-needed point, and Mitch was looking forward to this day being behind him, the stupid list now completed. He just had to turn it into Babs, receive the inevitable lecture about needing to improve his focus, and show Babs that his heart was in it. Auston would continue being amazing, and Mitch would help him shine while shining in his own right, kicking ass for the rest of the season and making it to the playoffs. Maybe even achieving their ultimate goal. There would be many more chest bumps and celebratory hugs on the ice, followed by drinks with the team and sleepovers at Auston’s place, just the two of them, happy in their own little world. Everything the way it was supposed to be. 

But that’s not quite what happened...

^^^^^^^^^^

It was a few days later at the start of their bye week, and Mitch was feeling like his old self. The fathers trip had given him a chance to reconnect with his dad, and it had been awesome seeing all of his buddies bond with their fathers, the camaraderie of their team apparent. Hopefully, he’d made a good impression on Brian Matthews. Why, it was hard to say, but he really needed Auston’s father to like him. Ema was the more easygoing of the two, warm and nurturing, whereas it was obvious that Brian was more reserved and serious, Auston’s personality originating from both of them.

Mitch was seated in front of his stall in the locker room, packing up his gear, getting ready to meet Auston downtown for dinner and a movie, when Naz and Bozie walked by, deep in conversation. Neither of them looked very pleased, but that was usually the reaction after being called into Coach’s office, which they had been right after practice.

“Looking good out there today!” he called out as they passed by him. Ordinarily, Naz would have stopped and given him a noogie or lightly punched his shoulder. But not today. 

Both of the older players kept walking and exchanged glances between the two of them. _Jesus, Babs must have really lit into these guys_. Bozie rolled his eyes and Naz muttered something under his breath.

“What was that, Naz? Everything okay?” Mitch approached them sheepishly, wondering if he could somehow lighten their moods.

“Huh...nice of you to ask. Coach just told us what you really think about our work ethic. Good to know how you really feel, Marns,” Naz replied, looking about as dejected as Mitch had ever seen him.

“What are you—”

“Save it, man,” Bozie interjected. “At least you put _your_ name in the right spot on that list.”

As the locker room door slammed behind them, Mitch was left scratching his head about what had just transpired. Usually he was able to help his teammates out of whatever shitty mood Babs had put them in, but he was somehow feeling responsible for whatever they were going through. What was it that Bozie had said about a list?

 _Fuck! What the actual fuck?_ Mitch felt himself gasping for air, stumbling back against the nearest stall, a wave of nausea sweeping over him as he tried to come up with any other possible explanation for why his teammates were upset, other than the one that he knew deep down was probably true.

He slid onto the bench, head in hands, wanting to curl up into the fetal position and cry, but too overcome with the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Mitch couldn’t even get properly angry with Babs at the moment. Surely he wasn’t the one who told Naz and Bozie about that list, they must have just stumbled upon it. There’s no fucking way he would have put Mitch through the torture of that exercise then shared it with others on the team.

His mind was racing with all the implications of that damn list, and Mitch couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. He wondered how he could explain this to Naz and Bozie. He hadn’t meant to hurt them, he hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. Now there were big, sloppy tears streaming down his face, he knew that much, and he felt a soft tapping on his shoulder. 

“Marns? Marns! Are you okay? What is it?” He recognized the sound of Mo’s voice, looked up and noticed the furrowed brow of his teammate through blurred vision. 

“I’m, uh...I’m...shit. Mo, I fucked up. I fucked up royally. Please tell me you didn’t see it too?”

“See what, buddy?”

“The list. That fucking list.” Mitch was trying to compose himself, but all he could think about was everyone on the team hating him for doing such a horrendous thing. It was a betrayal of their trust. 

“Not sure what you’re talking about, Mitchy. I’m calling Auston.” Mo had the phone at his ear, letting out a sigh of relief when Auston picked up, and explaining to him that something was really wrong with Mitch and to get his ass back over to the locker room _pronto_. 

Auston must have been close by because he seemed to get there in a matter of minutes, busting through the door, breathless and flustered. He knelt down in front of Mitch and grabbed a hold of his hands. “What happened? Is everything okay with your family?”

Mitch nodded his head “yes,” and Mo added his two cents, continuing to rub the rookie’s back gently. “He mentioned something about a list. And Coach.”

Fresh tears spilled from Mitch’s eyes, and Auston must have given Mo a signal to grab him some tissues because seconds later, Auston was dabbing at his cheeks softly. There was something about the way he was doing it that was tickling Mitch’s skin. He huffed out a laugh unexpectedly, which led to Auston cocking his head at him, like Lassie. Given that he was kneeling on the floor already, Mitch got this mental image of Auston as his faithful canine companion, and then he couldn’t stop the odd sensation that gripped his insides, welcomed it even. His entire body began shaking as laughter erupted from his mouth.

He could hear Mo chuckling to himself, and Auston was watching him intently, a grin spreading over his lips that he was trying to hide. But then he was laughing too, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, which may have been from laughing so hard, or sadness that had been hovering beneath the surface, seeing his friend so distraught, or relief that Mitch was no longer bawling uncontrollably.

Auston rose up and sat down next to Mitch, wrapping an arm around the smaller man and holding him until their laughter subsided. At some point, he must have given Mo the “I've got this under control, we’re weird, we know” look. Mo gave Mitch a final pat on the back and told the rookies he’d see them tomorrow at practice. 

“I hope you feel better, Mitchy. Let me know what I can do to help” were his parting words.

It was quiet now in the locker room, save for the two of them trying to catch their breath. Before he knew what was happening, Mitch felt strong arms lifting him up and Auston’s soothing voice in his ear. “Let’s get you home,” as he walked them towards the door.

^^^^^^^^^^

Mitch had really wanted a drink, and he was in luck—his father had left a couple bottles of wine that they’d never gotten around to drinking the previous weekend. Like most coaches during the season, Babs was adamant that the players refrain from drinking, but Auston must have been thinking the same thing as Mitch as he poured them two hearty glasses— _fuck it_.

A pizza was on the way, and Mitch was curled up on the sofa with a blanket spread over him. When Auston took the place next to him, Mitch shamelessly scooted over and nestled against his shoulder. He didn’t care if he seemed needy and pathetic, since he literally was feeling both of those things, and the alternative was letting his mind wander to all of the ways the rest of the team was going to crucify him, thinking he’d made that list as some way to get in the good graces of their coach. 

Auston was patting his hair lightly. “Okay, Mitchy. Let’s try this again. Tell me what happened. Let me help you.”

Every other time Mitch had started to explain the ask from Babs to make the list and then the apparent anger from Naz and Bozie, he’d gotten choked up on his words. But with one glass of wine circulating in his system, and a second waiting for him on the table, Mitch finally let it all out.

“It was when we were in New York last week, that day after practice, when Babs held me back.” Mitch adjusted so that his whole body was no longer pressed into Auston, only his chin resting on his shoulder, but Auston seemed to want him closer, cupping his hands over Mitch’s, giving him encouragement to continue.

“I knew he did something to fuck with you that day. Go on…” 

“Yeah, he’d been pissed at me lately, you know, sick of my antics. I mean, you’ve heard him telling me to get my act together. I figured I was in for it. Of course Babs didn’t give a shit that I was trying to spend time with my dad and the rest of you guys. Anyway, he told me to, uh…”

“He told you to...what?”

Mitch gulped. “He told me to...make a list. Of everyone on the team. Put them in order from hardest working to least.” There, he’d fucking said it, and he was assuming Auston didn’t know anything about it, word hadn’t spread that quickly nor had Babs shared it with the whole team. 

Auston was quiet for a minute and then exploded, his angry voice filling the room. Mitch could feel him trying to control the rest of his body and remaining steady and grounded, still supporting Mitch with his sturdy frame because he knew that’s what the moment called for.

“That fucker! What a piece of shit. And you did it, of course. Coach tells you to do something, and you do it.” Auston squeezed Mitch’s hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have done it together. I would have written “fuck you” twenty times in a nice, neat column.” 

Okay, Mitch had to chuckle at that, but Auston could afford to push back against their coach, he was a freaking hockey god. 

“Yeah, Aus. I can’t talk to Babs like that, and I figured he just wanted to prove a point. So I put myself at the bottom of the list, filled in the rest, not really thinking he would, uh…”

“He would...what?” Auston asked slowly, turning so that he could have eyes on Mitch when he responded. 

“Oh, fuck.” Mitch could feel tears forming behind his eyes. He didn’t want to cry again, but he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself. “He showed them the list, Aus. He showed them…”

“Showed...who?” glowered Auston. Now he was perched on the edge of the sofa, still holding Mitch’s hands, but his grip had loosened. “Tell me.”

“He showed the list to...uh, Naz and Bozie. I’d written their names at the bottom. I had to write someone, didn’t I?”

Auston leapt up, hands in the air, then he balled one of his hands into a fist and punched it into his open palm as he paced across the floor. “That twisted son-of-a-bitch. That worthless piece of crap!” Auston walked back over to the sofa and got down at Mitch’s eye level. “I’m going over to his house, Mitchy. I’m going to show that fucking jerk what happens when you mess with one of _us_.”

Mitch grabbed his arms and used some sort of never-before-seen force to haul Auston back onto the sofa. “No!” he yelled as he straddled his friend who had at least fifty pounds on him. “No, Aus! This is my mess. I have to fix it. You don’t need to get involved!”

“But, Mitch, I—”

“I love you for trying to help me, I do, but Babs doesn’t need another reason to get on my case and tell me what a pussy I am for running to you!” Mitch could feel his sadness over the situation slipping away and his need to protect Auston from himself rising to the top of his priorities. That, and figuring out a way to address what had happened with his teammates. 

Auston was rendered speechless, and Mitch realized that he was sitting on top of Auston, which was actually rather comfortable but wildly odd and maybe inappropriate, except that when he tried to shift back over to his side, Auston had his hands on his hips and wasn’t letting him move. 

“Okay, Mitch. Okay,” he breathed, staring intently back at him. “I’ll do what you want. But you said something, just now...and I, uh, I need to know if it was just a slip, or…”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Mitch was becoming more and more aware of how Auston was gripping his thighs, how he didn’t seem to want to let go, nor did Mitch want him to. 

“Look, I know it’s incredibly selfish to bring this up right now, it’s so fucked up, and it’s okay, however you respond, it won’t change anything. I’ll always be here for you, Mitchy. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I can’t stand to see you cry, and I just want to see you happy and stop beating yourself up or trying to be something you’re not because you’re perfect just the way you are and fuck Babs for making you doubt that.”

“Auston, I—”

The big brown-eyed softie shook his head, apparently needing to get something off his chest. “You said that you loved me trying to help you. _Loved._ I know it was the heat of the moment and you probably meant it as a term of our friendship. I mean, you’re my best friend, and I love you, too, but lately, Marns. Well, lately, I’ve started to have feelings for you, that uh, go beyond friendship...”

Mitch was speechless now, the words from the man beneath him sounding like the sweetest music to his ears, his heart pounding in his chest, the humiliation from the day’s events fading into the background, as this profound sense of everything being right in the world overcame him. He wanted to tell Auston that he had been feeling the same damn thing, for a while now, but he knew that Auston wasn’t finished talking, and he frankly didn’t want him to stop. 

“And I’m just going to lay it all out, Marns. I was going to tell you all of this at some point tonight. I didn’t mean for it to come out this way. Not with everything you’re dealing with. I’m sorry, but I just needed you to know.” Auston moved a hand to Mitch’s chin, his thumb softly caressing his cheek. It was the softest Mitch had ever seen him. “You don’t have to say anything, just know that I have your back. We can pretend this never happened if you want. Whatever you—”

No, Mitch couldn’t stand for Auston to have a single doubt that Mitch didn’t feel the exact same way. He leaned down to capture Auston’s mouth, lightly pressing his lips against Auston’s lips, feeling a slight tickle from the thin line of stubble over Auston’s mouth, the start of his playoff beard.

Mitch pulled away but stayed within inches of Auston’s face, curious to see if he’d answered Auston properly, or if he needed more convincing. 

“Oh, Mitchy,” he sighed. “Please tell me you’re not just—”

Mitch shut him up with another kiss, this one deeper, his hands finding their way around Auston’s neck, cupping the back of his head as Mitch pressed his entire body against Auston’s, feeling an intensity between them that was somehow familiar and so much more. 

They stayed like that a while longer, holding each other, experimenting with this new activity that they were both quite good at, and felt fucking amazing. Everything seemed to make sense, a missing piece of a puzzle falling into place. Auston ran his fingers through Mitch’s hair and pulled him down against his chest. Mitch could feel his heartbeat, and it was practically in sync with his own. 

“So, now what?” Auston wondered out loud. “If you’re not going to let me kick Babs’ ass, then what can I do?”

Mitch craned his neck back slightly and kissed Auston once more. “I’ve got this, Aus. Don’t worry.”

^^^^^^^^^^

It only took two heartfelt emails that Mitch composed that night, separately to Naz and Bozie, and the next day in the locker room before practice, each of them came over to Mitch and asked him to forgive their behavior from the day before. Naz said he was shocked after what Babs had told him, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized what a shitty position the coach had put Mitch in. 

“Sorry, lil dude. If I hadn’t have run into you yesterday, I probably wouldn’t have reacted that way at all. I would have gone home, been pissed for a minute, then called you to tell you what Coach did. He’s a real piece of shit. I don’t know what he hoped to accomplish. Maybe to make us more unified against him? If that was his intent, it fucking worked.”

Bozie said something similar, and both of his teammates took it upon themselves to explain to the rest of the team what Babs had done to Mitch, all of them disgusted when they found out this had started during the fathers trip. Needless to say, no one was very cooperative with their coach at practice that afternoon, nor for the rest of the bye week. Babs tried to make small talk with Mitch, but he wasn’t having it. He could try to explain away what he’d done, sweep it under the rug, and hope that his horrendous behavior stayed amongst the team. It probably would because that was the way of the world. But Mitch wasn’t going to let Babs get in the way of his happiness.

For now, Mitch and Auston had agreed to keep their budding relationship quiet, not wanting to do anything else to disrupt the dynamics within the team, take things slow, continue getting to know each other off the ice, and continue connecting on the ice. They had some very important work ahead of them.

Mitch eventually came to the conclusion, after much self-reflection, that maybe Babs was right. He did need to improve his focus, pay more attention to what was going on away from the puck, but he also found truth in what Auston had told him about being who he was and not letting Babs try to change his style. 

They’d talked about it further, many times, over the rest of the season, Auston confessing that he envied Mitch’s unique play, that he was clever and strategic, and could thrive in the background while Auston was constantly feeling the pressure to perform. 

“But babe,” Mitch cooed one night, laying next to Auston in his bed, brushing his lips over his bare shoulder. “You work your ass off. You know I put you at the top of my list, right? The very top.”

Auston chuckled. “You didn’t.”

“Of course I fucking did.” Mitch nestled against Auston, wishing he could somehow burrow into his skin permanently.

“That’s just because you _looooooove_ me,” teased Auston.

And truthfully, Mitch couldn’t argue with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Is it weird that I want Mitch’s secret nickname for Auston to be “Moon?” I just do. I have my reasons.


End file.
